Save You (Gay Carl Grimes Story) SLOW UPDATES!

"Like I died and came back to life"

A/N

Yes, I know the story is very character oriented, but I would like you to assume that everything that is currently going on at this point in the tv show, is actually going on (i.e as everyone in the prison is dying while Daryl and a group of people have gone to find medicine) as long as it doesn't involve Carl and anyone with my OC Tristan.
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Carl moved quickly,trying to make sure that the gate wouldn't remain remain standing the second the first support had fallen, but still he had to try to keep it up. If the undead got in, they would kill everybody here. He had to stop them. His father pulled him along, yelling for him to follow to the gate. Carl could feel the terror rising in his body, and if he weren't trying to get away from them he would probably double over and throw-up. But that was something he couldn't do in this time.  He needed to be strong, for Tristan, and for Judith, and for every person in the cell block who couldn't possibly fight against these things. He would save them.

He helped his father slam the gate, closing it with him, and chaining the the links together.

"We'll have to fight against them." Rick said, moving over to the bin of guns and pulling out two, and several mags of bullets, and instructing his son on how to reload. Carl nodded, paying close attention, and even mirroring his actions, before turning to face the oncoming army of the undead. The gate wilted under their weight, and seconds ticked away like hours as the chain link weakened, before finally giving away. Carl raised his gun and began to fire on the advancing undead.

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Tristan watched Carl with a smile, nibbling gently at his finger as the boy undressed in front of him. The first thing to go was his hat. Then Tristan turned a light pink as his hands roamed down to the edges of his shirt, lifting it gently to expose the pale skin there. Then it was up and over his body. He popped out smiling at the already shirtless boy on the bed, as he threw the shirt aside. Then he moved along side the bed, his hand trailing up his body, before he came towards his face. Then a snarl ripped itself from his throat.

Tristan's eyes snapped open just in time to allow him to roll off his bed and avoid being bitten in the throat by a walker. He was still groggy, and he felt like he shouldn't be alive. He coughed roughly as the walker continued its attack.
Tristan turned so that he was facing the walker. His bow wasn't near him, and neither was his knife. He stared at the creature that had shifted to the edge of the bed, and was now reaching for him. There were no weapons... he had to make one.

He placed his leg against the walker so it remained on the cot. Then his hand shot out, grabbing the outstretched arm of the walker, right around the wrist, and slammed it down against the edge of the bed. Blood spurted as the bone severed the skin and stuck out at an angle. Tristan stared at this person, someone he had come to known, someone who believed that they were safe, then moved with a large amount of strength as he thought about Carl, who would be waiting for him. Then he drove the bone into the walkers skull. The creature stopped moving next to him, and Tristan relaxed slightly. Before he heard someone shouting.

"Don't! You might shoot the bag!" Hershel yelled.

Tristan stumbled out of his cell, and peered over the edge. He could see Hershel struggling with another walker, and below them was Maggie.

He watched, dazed as she let out one shot, and the blood from the creatures came up. Then she moved up the stairs, to where a spaced Tristan was helping Hershel up.

He coughed and stumbled towards the wall, trying to regain his balance, and holding on to the railings for support.

"How are you feeling Tristan?" Hershel asked after they had stabilized Glenn.

The boy grimaced, looking down below at the dead.

"Like I died and came back to life." He admitted, sinking to the ground exhausted. Hershel chuckled, shaking his head at the boy.

"When do you suppose they'll be back?" Maggie asked, moving a piece of Glenn's hair out of his face.

Tristan looked out the window, as a ray of sunlight trickled in, and seemed to take away from the morbid tone of the cell block.

"I feel like things will be getting better from here on." He said smiling slightly.
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Carl walked among the now forever lifeless bodies, raising his gun every few seconds to kill a walker that had only been pinned in the shootout. His father was a few steps to his left, taking out the other ones. The battle had pretty much continued all through the night. It was exhausting, and the noise had drawn some more in, but Carl had killed them too. Though he would never tell his father, he had counted how many he had killed.

He stood over one that was reaching towards him, and pulled the trigger, before he heard the familiar whistle from Michonne. His head snapped up along with Rick's, before the two rushed off towards the front gate. Carl couldn't contain his excitement, sprinting far ahead of his father, getting to the mechanism to open it first, and immediately began pulling. Rick stood in front, as each of them filed in.

The first out of their car was Bob, who was holding a bag full of medicine for the sick ones in the hospital.

Carl watched Michonne. She was the one who would allow him relief. She was the one who would tell them.

"We got the medicine." She said, a smile breaking out across her face.